The Untold Tale Of Isabella Swan
by ilovetheliquidtopaz
Summary: Isabella Swan moves to Forks to escape her past, 10 seconds later, and she's already gotten into a streetfight, with none other than Edward Cullen, the towns resident Bad Boy Mafia Thug. Can she prove to him that wanting isn't getting...? OCC, R&R!


**Hey, I'm reposting this because the layout was all weird before.  
Enjoy!**

**BPOV**

I glanced around the dark street, lit dimly by a flickering street light far in the distance.  
'Sod it,' I mumbled to myself, turning and setting off down the narrow side street- if I went the long way home I'd be out here for an extra half an hour.

I stuck my iPod headphones in and jacked up the volume, You Me At Six blasting through them and drowning out the creepy night sounds.

I kept my eyes straight ahead, my heart pounding, before I hissed at myself.  
'Jeez, man UP, Bella!' I shook my head, trying (and failing) to rid my thoughts of paranoia, then continued down the uneven ground.

'Save it for, save it for the bedroom' I hummed under my breath, mentally noting that I needed to print off my Chemistry homework.

As I passed another streetlight, my foot caught on the pole, and I fell forwards onto all fours, my right hand catching on a piece of glass from a broken beer bottle.  
'Urgh, balls!' I swore, shaking my hand back and forth, trying to shake off the pain.  
I glanced down at my palm, only a small cut.

I swore again as it started to bleed, but the sound of raised voices coming from the alley leading off the one I was currently standing in caught my attention.

I yanked out the earphone that hadn't fallen out of my ear as I tripped, and listened for the voices again. Turning my focus away from my hand, I craned my head round and saw a group of boys gathered further down the other alleyway, crowding around a fight.

I squinted, and saw two guys rolling around on the floor, whilst three others watched on.  
Normally I would have walked on, not my fight, right?

But as I stood up and brushed myself off, one of the guys-he had a striped shirt on- punched the guy with the dark shirt on, causing two of the other guys to jump in and start pounding the stripy guy.

Three on one? With another waiting to attack? Fuck that, I got my brown belt for situations like this.  
And although I knew I'd get a verbal beating from Dad about getting involved and shiz, I wasn't about to walk away by some guy got jumped, three on one.

Naah, screw that.

I started down the alley, leaving the safety of the streetlight and heading towards the group.

'Hey!' I yelled, hoping my presence would scare them off…Yeah, right.

One of the guys who hadn't gotten in to the fight, who was watching, waiting for an opening, turned towards me, sneering when he saw me.

'Piss off' he laughed, half turning back to the fight.

Prick.

This guy was twice my size, but he hadn't expected the upward punch to his gut, and he let out an agonised groan as he pit the damp pavement.

Surprised, the two other guys looked up, -they'd 'stepped out' of the fight again, leaving it to the dark haired guy- their eyes flickering from their mate on the ground and back up at me. The blonde guys' eyes hardened, and him and the other bully boy took a step towards me, sneering.

Crap.

I tried to think tactical, 'what would Sensai do?'. These guys were huge, over 6 foot, with hench muscles.  
I began to panic, fair enough, I was a brown-nearly black-belt in Karate, but I'd just picked a fight with four massive guys, and sometimes no amount of skill can make up for muscle when you're surrounded.

'Just don't let them get hold of you, that's the only way you can avoid getting beat' I thought, taking a deep breath.

The men were still getting closer, and from the look of them I could tell that they were the sort of guys who wouldn't hesitate before hitting a girl, so my backup plan was out the window.  
My eyes flickered quickly to the stripy guy, who was still getting the shit beaten out of him.

Damn.

'Listen, bitch,' the blonde one on my left growled. 'This ain't your beef, fuck off before you get hurt, ok?' Unable to control my temper, I wrenched my knee upwards and jammed it into his balls, then smashed my elbow into the side off his face, smirking as he gasped, his eyes bulging as he fell to his knees.

I sneered down on him a moment to long, resulting in a sharp and hard blow to my stomach, which knocked me off balance, sending me flying into the fence lining the alleyway.

'You wanna mess with me, bitch?' the guy standing spat, coming closer to me. 'Don't think I won't hit you cos you're a girl, you stupid cow'

His hand grabbed my arm that was attempting in dent his face, and pulled me towards him, throwing another punch to my stomach, and this time I couldn't hold in the gasp of pain.

I barely had time to breathe before another hit came, and another.

My free hand came up and my palm smashed upwards into his nose, making a satisfying crunch before a torrent of blood exploded from his face, squirting near my offending hand.

He growled under his breath, and in retaliation his bent the arm he still had hold of close to breaking point, before shoving my shoulders; I used to momentum to step back and regain my balance, before launching into a roundhouse kick, smacking him in the stomach.

Furious, and sore from the punches, I added a sharp kick to his temple as he went down, leaving him on the floor.

'Bastard' I muttered under my breath as I stepped over him, feasting my eyes on the sight before me.  
The stripy guy was finally beginning to fight back, and over the sound of fists connecting with flesh, the dark haired guy (the one who'd been fighting at the start) yelled at the last one (who was actually the first one I had punched, he'd gotten up off the ground and gone to help the dark shirted guy when he saw his two other mates coming for me) to 'sort that bitch out'.

I backed up, giving myself space as the last guy (first guy) stepped round his two mates towards me.  
'Come on then, you bastard; I spat, raising my hands, taking up a protective stance.

As dark shirt nrought his knee up and collided it with stripys' stomach, I quickly glanced around and contemplated yelling for help – I was getting pretty tired-, but there was no one around, and Prick Number Three was getting closer.

He smirked like the cat who caught the canary, before launching himself at me.

I side stepped his attack, and then used a classic technique, jamming two fingers into his chest centre, which caused a slight spasm, then while he was distracted, hooked my foot around his ankle and shoved him backwards, silently laughing as he toppled backwards.

The two guys were still fighting, and now that it was an even match, the stripy guy was landing more hits, but he was hurt, worse than the other guy.

My three opponents were down, but none of them were seriously injured, so they'd probably be back up again in a matter of minutes, so I had to act fast.

The dark shirted (and haired) guy slammed his leg into stripy guys' stomach one last time, and dropped his hold on his shirt, letting stripy guy fall and slump to the ground.

To say this guy was huge was a understatement- THE understatement of the century.  
He loomed over me, blocking what little light there was.

He didn't say anything, and I could tell by his expression that he was one of those silent types, the ruthless ones who could terrify some people with just one look.

I had to crane my neck to look at him, which sort of ruined the whole standing-my-ground-glaring-into-his-face thing I had going on.  
I didn't know whether to attempt to fight him, I could already tell from just looking at him that he was practically made of steel, and I wanted to see how stripy guy was doing, but there was no way in hell I was looking away first.

Before I could react, a large hand came up, quick as a flash, and bent my own into the gooseneck position, and I was squirming in pain- I still defiantly held his gaze though. 

And then he spoke, surprisingly fluidly for some thug you'd assume had about half a brain cell. His voice was strangely soft, yet loud and piercing in the silence of the night.

'Back, off.'  
His words had a dangerous edge, and the way he said them only added to that- slowly, as though they were two separate sentences.

I raised my chin stubbornly, and glared up into his hard, dark eyes defiantly.

'Make, me' my tone, voice and emphasis mirrored his, he raised one seemingly dark (it was so dark that I couldn't make out of the true colour of his hair) eyebrow, before a smirk adorned his face.

My knee came up quickly, ramming perfectly into its target, although not having its fully desired effect.

His smirk vanished, but he didn't gasp or turn blew like I'd hoped.

I held his gaze mockingly, vaguely aware of his mates coming around, the guy closest to us, the first and third guy, staggering to his feet, his eyes bleary and bloodshot, his expression furious, and suddenly I knew what was going to happen before it did.

I knew he was going to punch me.

'This decides it' I said to myself, bracing myself, still not taking my eyes off Mr Dark Shirt.

The blow wasn't that hard, I'd punched him harder, and I managed (barely) to keep my face straight.  
Just like me, Dark Shirt guarded his eyes and his expression, not showing any surprise, anger, not letting any emotions escape.

The other two moved forwards for their turn, but he raised the arm that wasn't currently twisting mine, stopping and silencing them.

And he spoke again.

'I don't think you know who you're dealing with' he said, that smirk appearing again. I refused to react though, I didn't want to let him win.

The only thing that was bothering me was how close he was getting to me, all up in my face.  
As if he'd read my mind, he inched forward, so he was almost flush against me, his hips touching mine.

'Cul-' one of the trolls said, moving forwards.  
'Don't worry' he interrupted, still competing in our staring contest.

'She'll get her dues' he reached up and stroked my cheek mockingly, which was the one thing I couldn't handle; I jerked my head away fiercely, livid, and in response he twisted my hand that little bit further, and I rose up onto my tip toes, desperately trying to ease the pressure.

His eyes said it all.

Finally, a reaction.

He smirked, pressing his body hard against mine, before pushing away, giving my arm another tilt before dropping my hand and sauntering off down the alley, his henchmen following him, throwing me daggers.


End file.
